Chapter 15: An Uninvited Guest (and a Prank Call)
[SYSTEM MESSAGE: TARGET YELENA BELOVA DETECTED IN IMMEDIATE VICINITY. MISSION PROTOCOL: PRIMARY OBJECTIVE – ESTABLISH CONTACT. RECOMMENDED APPROACH: NON-LETHAL, DISORIENTING.]
"Non-lethal and disorienting? System, you know me too well," I mused, crouched on a rain-slicked rooftop overlooking a dilapidated apartment building in Budapest. The air hung heavy with the smell of damp concrete and something vaguely like old cabbage. Not exactly the romantic backdrop I'd envisioned, but hey, you take what you can get.
My "Advanced Tactical Awareness" confirmed Yelena's presence. She was inside, no doubt meticulously planning whatever deadly ballet she was about to perform. My mission, however, was less about covert operations and more about overt annoyance. I had a few hours before she was likely to make her move. Plenty of time for a proper "meet-cute," Adam Stiels style.
"Alright, Yelena. Round two. Last time, you stabbed me. This time, I'm going for emotional damage. Or at least, enough confusion to make you question your career choices. This is going to be magnificent."*
I needed to get inside. Discreetly. My "Wall-Crawling" made vertical travel a breeze, and my "Basic Espionage Mastery (Limited)" helped me bypass the rudimentary security. I found a window on the third floor that was slightly ajar, leading into what looked like a disused laundry room. Perfect.
Once inside, I moved silently through the building, my "Basic Reflexes (Minor Improvement)" making me incredibly light-footed. I found Yelena's apartment. The door was reinforced, a dead giveaway. She was definitely here.
I decided against a direct knock. Too normal. Too boring. And too likely to result in me getting shot before I could even utter my first sarcastic greeting. No, I needed something subtler. Something that would slowly, inexorably, drive her crazy.
I pulled out a small, highly specialized device I'd cobbled together from salvaged Chitauri comms equipment and a few old cell phones. My "Basic Energy Weapon Proficiency" somehow translated into an innate understanding of alien electronics, allowing me to rewire things in ways that would make an actual engineer weep. This device was designed to intercept and mimic secure communications. Or, more accurately, to make prank calls. Very, very secure prank calls.
I carefully tapped into the building's ancient wiring, connecting my device to Yelena's apartment phone line. Assuming she even had a landline. Most assassins didn't. But this was Yelena. She was old school in some ways. Or maybe I just had a good feeling.
A few moments later, I heard the faint, almost imperceptible ring from inside her apartment. Success!
I cleared my throat, put on my most charming (and slightly exasperating) voice, and pressed the "call" button.
"Hello, Yelena. This is your conscience calling. Or possibly a very persistent telemarketer trying to sell you extended warranties on your assassination equipment. You decide."*
Inside, Yelena picked up the phone, her voice clipped, wary. "Yes?"
"Hello, is this the lovely Yelena Belova, former assassin, current connoisseur of multi-pocket vests, and future recipient of my undying affection?" I asked, modulating my voice slightly with an illusion to make it sound disembodied, like it was coming from everywhere and nowhere.
A beat of silence. Then, a sharp intake of breath. "Who is this?" she demanded, her voice laced with ice.
"Oh, just a friendly admirer," I purred, enjoying her confusion. "You know, the one you tried to introduce to the afterlife a few weeks ago? Lovely knife work, by the way. Very elegant. Though, I prefer a nice, clean gunshot myself. Less mess."
I heard a thud, as if she'd dropped the phone. Then, rapid footsteps. My "Tactical Awareness" sensed her moving quickly, casing the apartment, trying to pinpoint my location. She was good. Very good.
"How are you... how are you alive?" she hissed, her voice barely a whisper, filled with a primal, disbelieving fury.
"Well, that's a long story, involving a grumpy system, a lot of dying, and a surprisingly good tailor," I replied cheerfully. "But listen, that's not why I called. I called because I believe in second chances. And third chances. And roughly a few dozen more chances after that. So, I figured, since you clearly have exquisite taste in targets, you'd appreciate my persistence. And also, I wanted to ask you a very important question."
"What question?!" she snarled, her voice tight with suppressed rage.
"Do you believe in love at first stab?" I asked, letting my voice return to normal, a subtle chuckle entering my tone. "Because I certainly do. And I think we're destined for something truly special, Yelena. Something involving less attempted murder and more… well, actual romance. And possibly matching multi-pocket vests. I'm open to suggestions."
A loud smash echoed from her apartment. She'd thrown the phone. Probably through a wall. My "Tactical Awareness" showed her storming towards the door, likely about to hunt me down.
"Okay, Adam, time to make a graceful, if annoying, exit. She's mad. Very mad. Which means she's paying attention. Step one of my grand romantic gesture: complete."*
I quickly detached my device and, with a final, mischievous grin, activated a stronger illusion. On the wall opposite her door, a shimmering image of me appeared, waving brightly, a speech bubble above my head that read: "You can run, but you can't hide from my unwavering affection! Call me! (Or stab me, either works!)"
I then used my "Wall-Crawling" to rapidly ascend through a ventilation shaft, making my escape onto the roof. I heard her door burst open, followed by a string of furious, highly creative Russian curses.
"Oh, she's definitely interested. That's the sound of a woman who's falling madly in love. Or, you know, planning my slow and painful demise. Either way, progress!"*
I looked back at the apartment building, a feeling of triumphant glee bubbling within me. This was just the beginning. Yelena Belova was now acutely aware of my existence. And soon, she would be intimately aware of my unyielding pursuit. Arc 1 was ending. The real fun was about to begin. The cat and mouse game, the witty banter, the inevitable (from my perspective) romance. This was going to be epic.